Dead, not gone
by DreamCatcher37
Summary: "Computer…bring me a hovertransporter.   And ready the Voot.  I'll clean this mess up later." I said, reaching behind Dib's glasses and closing his eyes.  "And get a shovel."
1. Bloodshed

Crimson-red blood covered the front of the boy's shirt and the floor surrounding his limp body.

In movies, I'd seen that humans look peaceful when they died. Like they were just asleep. Not this time. All of Dib's muscles were tensed in the last throes of death, and his eyes were wide open-staring up at me with a silent, blank glare. I gave the knife one last twist and tugged it out of his stomach. It glistened red in the light.

Irken tradition was imprinted in soldiers from the time they were smeets. It was taught like religion. And it stated that once someone-comrade or enemy-was struck down in battle, their body must lay in a place of their choosing. And just my luck I found the stupid Dib-monkey's journal a week ago.

Beside a burnt-down shell of a house on the outskirts of town there was a path that leads to a pet cemetery. (For some reason, in his journal, he always misspelled it as 'semetary'.) Beyond that-a mile beyond-was an Indian burial ground. He had clearly stated that, in the event of his untimely death, he should be buried there.

I looked from the knife to the body. However I hated it, I had to admit-the human child had been a worthy arch enemy. But in the end I won out. It was inevitable, but still, Dib Membrane had fought a good fight.

"Computer…bring me a hovertransporter. And ready the Voot. I'll clean this up later." I said, reaching behind Dib's glasses and closing his eyes. "And get a shovel."


	2. Murderer

It was the next day. The deed had been done. And I couldn't have felt better about it. I was already making plans for the demise of planet Earth when in walked in the Dib-human's sister. For the most part I was unaware of her presence. The teacher told her to go back to her classroom.

"Yes! Filthy human meat, go back to your slave cell!" I laughed. Some humans are so daft…

"YOU! What did you do to my brother?" she yelled, jabbing her finger in my face. I almost fell out of my seat.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" I stuttered.

"Yes you do. He MAY be insane, he MAY be a disgrace to my family, but that doesn't mean he's not my brother. So tell me or I will rip your arm off and beat you to death with it-WHAT DID YOU DO TO DIB?"

The silence was deafening. My heart beat faster and faster against my ribcage.

"…didn't he go back to your house last night?"

"Yeah, he did." Gaz said, like it was obvious. "That's the problem. He came home all dirty and bloody."

I went limp.

"He did? Where…where's he now?" I murmured, still in denial.

Almost on cue, the door to the classroom flew open and hit the wall with a BANG. In walked the Dib-human, looking better than I had left him-but still dead nonetheless. Still pale and bruised. Still muddy.

"You're supposed to be at home asleep." Gaz said to Dib.

"…I got over it." He responded. It was more of a growl than an actual response. He stopped and looked at me, and my blood turned to ice.

"What's the matter, Zim? You look like you've seen a ghost." He sneered. His teeth were tinted red with the blood that gushed from his mouth mere hours ago. He walked/limped to his seat, with his glassy eyes still on me, and mouthed one word.

"Murderer."


	3. Victor

It was about 2 AM. I hadn't expected to live as long as I did. All the doors and windows were barricaded, and the security system was on maximum alert. And-as my luck would have it-it started to rain.

Suddenly, Gir squeaked and ran away, nearly giving me a heart attack. From my vantage point between the couch and the wall, he found a ladybug.

"The barrier was never meant to be crossed…"

I nearly screamed. But it wasn't Dib's voice. I dared to peer out into the room. In the middle of it stood another pale human in red jogging shorts and a grey hoodie. His face was blue and his blonde hair was matted with blood from a gaping wound that showed his brain.

"And who are you?" I screamed.

"He was never meant to die. The barrier was there for a reason."

"Who are you? I didn't kill you. Did I? Are you one of Dib's friends?"

"You buried him in unhallowed ground, and now…"

The zombie thing gave me this weird, almost sad, look. I started to panic.

"…and now?"

"You pay the price. I've warned you."

The thing disappeared into thin air. 'Oh. Ghost, not zombie. Fine.' I thought.

"WELL A LOT OF HELP YOU WERE!" I screamed at the air where he was. I threw the kitchen knife at where the jogger ghost was a second ago-and it stuck in the wall with a THUD.

More lightning flashed, illuminating the room. I froze. And I prayed that I somehow left the door open and overlooked it.


	4. I'm Back

"I'm ba-ack…" the familiar, raspy voice called over the noise of the rain. I slowly turned-and faced my deceased adversary.

"That's impossible…I left you under a pile of rocks at the Indian burial ground…" I murmured.

"Well I'm back…and I remember how I died." he said, lifting his filthy shirt up so I could see the stab wound. I glanced at the knife in the wall, thinking if I could only kill him again and bury him somewhere that he'd STAY dead…

I looked back at Dib; our eyes locked in a silent stare-down. I lunged for the knife. He lunged for my throat. And he barely missed me.

Not waiting for him to get up off the floor, I brought the razor-edged PAK legs out and prepared to stab Dib again. At the last second he turned over on his back. It made no difference to me.

But just as the glinting blade was about to pierce his skull, it was stopped, and with inhuman strength wrenched out of my grip and thrown away. Dib grinned evilly up at me. His glassy eyes seemed to be staring daggers into my soul. It came down to now or never.


	5. Not The End

"'He's your brother, Gaz,'" I said in the most nasal, mocking voice I could muster. "Don't let him get any more fights with Zim. Look out for your brother, Gaz.' I'm not his babysitter. If he wants to pick a fight with the weird kid, let him!"

Sometimes Dad majorly ticks me off.

I walked right into Zim's house like I owned the place. From the looks of it they were already fighting. 'Well….I'm already here….it wouldn't hurt to let them battle it out for a couple minutes.' I thought.

Zim was fighting with those spider legs thingies. I was about to call him on cheating when Dib grabbed one of the leg things that Zim was about to cut him with and pointed it towards Zim's chest. I smiled.

I couldn't tell what happened next-whether Zim slipped or Dib overpowered him. Either way the result was the same.

The spider leg stabbed Zim through the chest and poked through his shoulder blade on the other side. Black blossomed on his shirt like a vampire rose. Apparently, aliens have black blood. Who knew?

He looked down at his chest and staggered backwards, spasming a bit, then collapsed in the corner. Dib got up and just stared at Zim with this satanic smile on his face.

"Your leaders hated you," he said. "They only _pretended_ you were an Invader. Despair and die."

He turned around, grabbed a knife off the floor, and walked right past me out the door like I wasn't even there. He was muttering something about Torque Smacky. Zim, gasping irregularly, watched him leave-and then looked at me like I was supposed to do something. I walked over to him and looked at all the blood on his shirt and on the floor.

I guess I was supposed to feel sorry. But why? Everyone dies. The question is how they croak in the end. I guess I was supposed to feel guilty for not stopping Dib. But how?

Zim's talking dog walked out of the kitchen. It froze at seeing its dying master.

"...It's not _fair_…." He said quietly, looking up at me, tears welling up in his eyes.

The normal red behind Zim's contacts went out like a light. I'd heard that people's eyes closed and they went limp when they died. Not this time. His eyes stayed open and every muscle was tensed. The little lime green dog wailed and cried for its master-I was cruel, but I didn't have the heart to tell Gir that Zim was dead.

I turned towards the door, already planning to place an anonymous phone call to the Police Department and then curl up with my Game Slave, when a horrible realization came to me.

Zim still had my Game Slave.

I started to choke up. Without my GS, I couldn't hope to last two days without losing my mind.

I looked back at the dead body. I could either tear this place apart and go insane looking for it, which could take days, or…

Dib had been ranting about some pet cemetery and a burial ground for the past month or so. It was insane, like all of Dib's ideas were, but insane might just work…

"Gir," I said. The robot dog stopped crying for a moment. "You think you could carry him at least a mile?"

He nodded.

"And do you know where the shovels are?"


End file.
